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"That's what being old looks like, Greg" Litra said, frowning at him.
"Hello, Litra. You'll do well to look as good as I do when you are my age," the shopkeeper said, smiling. I see you have one of the strangers with you. What are you looking for?"
"We want to hunt for rechantu."
"What's a rechantu?" Greg asked.
"Not from around here, eh? It is a small animal, about so big," the shop owner said, gesturing with her hands. She reached underneath the counter, retrieving a bound book made from thin metal leaves. She opened the book and turned to a page depicting an animal like an elongated rabbit, but with larger, more powerful feet.
"How do we hunt them?" Greg asked.
"With a bow. I can teach you, well, Nira will," Litra said. She held her hand out with her palm facing her and her four fingers slightly curled.
"Grab my hand and pull."
Litra hooked her fingers around Greg's hand. "Pull, and do not use your feet," she said.
Greg did as she asked. If it was an arm wrestling contest, he wasn't confident he'd win too easily.
"A yb-1 will work. May I take one for the day, Delno?" she said.
"Of course. Now get out of here, I have paying customers waiting."
They left the weapons shop and walked a short distance to a metal building connected to a covered patio. Dozens of Telluki females loitered, their clothes filthy with dust and debris from working in the mines. There was no fee to ride the train. It ran continuously, ferrying workers to and from the mines northeast of Anukina. An engine pulled into the station, resembling the tractor that rescued them from the mountain crash more than the large engine that made the Newtown run.
"Two for the Brightstar trail," Litra said to the engineer at the front of the engine as they boarded.
They arrived at a clearing in the dirt where Nira was waiting. Litra handed Greg the yb-1 crossbow, a quiver, and another small bag for carrying kills.
"A yb-1? I'm impressed," Nira said.
"You two go northwest, see if you find anything to eat. I'll set up a camp at the trail base. If Nira says you are good to go, we can take a rest there before we head up to the observation point."
Greg shouldered the new items and was unhappy with his load in the heavy gravity. This trip was supposed to verify his ability to walk, his back woods prowess on Proxima b. Neither looked promising with all that he was carrying.
"This is more than I can carry right now, Litra. This is the most important thing I own. Can you carry it for me? Please don't lose it."
"Litra will not lose your R-adeo box thing," Nira said as Litra took the pack.
Greg knew how to shoot: sighting, holding your breath, squeezing a trigger instead of pulling, but no one from Earth except hobbyists had touched a bow in hundreds of years. When the ammo for his SX4 sidearm ran out, it'd be a curious paper weight on this planet; he suspected learning a native weapon was wise.
He saw his first rechantu. They darted about like chipmunks amid the foliage of the planet and were too simple to fear anything. A marksman with patience and the right waiting area could kill enough to feed the entire crew in an afternoon. They walked over a rocky, brown-moss covered trail in a lowland area east of the mountain ranges where the Raphael had crashed.
"I tried to ask you so many questions before, but you could not understand me, after a while I gave up. I'd tell you stupid stuff, just to see if I could get a reaction from you. Do you remember anything I told you when we walked?"
"I could not understand much of what you said."
"That's a shame. Did you come back to see if I would help you, or did you come back because you like me?"
"I don't understand."
"That's a typical boy's answer. This is a good spot. Let's practice shooting at that Proxypalm, then we can try to get some kills in the clearing. Let me show you how to hold the bow."
Nira crouched behind him. She reached around and clasped his hands. She was trying to teach him where to nock the arrow.
"You are a kena paw, like me," she said, noting his left-handedness.
He could feel her chest, and boobs, pressing into his back, and Greg was thinking of the Teolid that tried to bite him in Newtown. Instead of calming his breathing, it sped up, and he flinched when she tried to move his hands into position.
"Do not squeeze the handle, just hold it. Pull."
Greg's hands shook, his breathing was not shallow as it should be. She was too close to the audio processor. The alien vowels flowed into his ear before the neckband could attenuate and translate. If she wanted to sink those flesh tearing incisors into his neck or shoulder, she could.
"Release," she whispered.
The arrow sailed wide, and Greg twisted away from her.
"Why are you so nervous?" she asked.
"Just... let me try one on my own," Greg said.
Nira frowned, taking three steps backwards.
Greg drew another arrow from his quiver and nocked it as Nira showed him. He relaxed, drew, and released. It was a hit!
"Well done. Let's wait over here in the clearing and use up our quivers. We'll see if we can bag a few rechantu for dinner. Remember, you'll need to lead them if they're hopping, but often they sit still and are easy targets."
They hunted for an hour or two by Greg's estimate, then returned where Litra was waiting.
-*-
"How'd he do?" Litra asked.
"Growl-hmm. With work on his finger hold and release, he could be on target every time. I'll give him a pass," Nira said, dumping two field dressed rechantu on the ground.
Litra cooked the meat on the fire she prepared. When it was ready, Greg tried his first Proxima rabbit. It tasted like gamey chicken. North of them was a rocky trail which led to the observation point. He could see where it entered the low cloud cover, and hopefully exited above it. According to Nira and Litra, there was a hole in the sky above the peak, formed from the leeward vortices of wind flowing down the mountain range to their west.
Nira insisted Greg walk in front of her so she could point out the route and arrest his fall, should he miss a grip or step. Litra took point at the front. The uphill trail was straightforward marching until the first dry waterfall: two meters of vertical rock covered in a dark green moss, and damp from tiny cracks where water flowed through the face. Outcroppings of jumbled conglomerate and overhangs provided hand and foot holds. Litra scaled the obstacle in one and a half steps of her tall frame.
Damn this planet, he thought. If gravity was the weakest of the four fundamental forces in the universe, why was it kicking his ass? His quadriceps were on fire, and his lungs were not far behind. Greg tightened the straps for his backpack so it wouldn't slam against the rocks and found a foothold for his left leg, hoisting himself onto the rock face. Following with his right boot into the only footing he saw; he was left with an obtuse angle at his knee. The length of his handholds made it impossible to generate lift from his arms. His upper body couldn't help him, not in this gravity.
One simple obstacle, why is this so hard? Greg searched the rock face trying different hand holds, searching for a different foot hold, but each combination was the same. Every time he tried to move into a new and stable hold, he could not generate enough lifting power, or grip, to be sure of the transition. Falling two meters wasn't going to hurt him, but it meant he'd have to start over from the bottom, and make the same effort over and over until he succeeded -- or was exhausted.
He retreated to his current position, recouping some energy, and tried once more the most promising of the four transitions he could choose from. He pulled with his extended hamstring as hard as he could, and mustered all the strength his poorly leveraged outstretched arm allowed. He only needed to pull himself a few centimeters, then he could push with his foot. When his lactic-acid-filled forearm gave out, and he prepared himself to leap down to the ground in failure, he felt a hand on his backside. It steadied his body and pushed. It was Nira, she was helping him, like she said she would. He trusted the strength of her arm and secured new footing.
At 450 meters of elevation gain they were embedded in the mist of the clouds he was trying to escape. Greg's legs trembled with each step he took, his breathing labored, and his ankle, crushed in the Rafael crash, which he thought healed, was hurting like the day he'd landed on this planet.
At 600 meters, the mist broke. A large, flat rock extended over the side of a switchback in the trail. Litra stepped out, overlooking the edge. Below them unfolded a cloud deck as if the entire planet were cotton. Nothing of the ground below, or Anukina, could be seen.
"You two go ahead. I will follow. I must enjoy the view; it has been a long time."
150 meters later, Greg reached the top. He dropped both hands to his knees to catch his breath. When the redness drained from his face, and the fire receded from his lungs, he turned to face Nira. There were no clouds here, making her green eyes sparkle in the full light of her star. Behind her, Proxima sat small and tirelessly in the sky. Not seen naked since orbit, and less arrogant than the Earth's Sun, it was willing to introduce itself with a fearless and unharming disposition. He looked straight into it.
Delirious from complete physical exhaustion, he overlooked Nira's animal appearance, her vicious drooling teeth, angular muzzled jaw, clawed hands, brutish build, and inhuman monocolor eyes. In childlike curiosity, he ran his hand over her thick obsidian hair, along its glossy surface to her fur covered ear, tracing its outside edge where he turned his wrist and brought his thumb to rest against her face before pulling it away.
"Thank you for helping me here," he said.
"Just so you know, I offered to help you because I want to take you as my first clan mate," Nira said.
"Nira, I'm not from around here..."
"I know. You're a Lani, so you say. If you do not like me, why don't you just tell me?"
"The view is beautiful up here," Litra said, arriving up top. "How does it work, this thing you wanted to come up here for?"
Charged particles from a planet's host star travel through space and bombard its upper atmosphere, agitating it to emit its own radio waves. From a planet's surface, sending radio waves is like firing a weapon; higher frequencies equate to more energy. You need a rifle with sufficient power to make it through those hyperactive atmosphere layers. Greg wanted a cloud free spot because he hoped to establish the critical frequency that could penetrate the ionosphere of Proxima b. The critical frequency marked the point where a radio wave would travel outward to space, where Kassy could receive it. Below that, the waves would be reflected back to the ground, or absorbed.
He unfolded the tiny parabolic dish of his ionosonde and connected a feed cable to his portable radio.
"What is that; is it to catch rain water with?" Litra asked.
"No," Greg said, laughing a little. "I am shooting tiny things through the air, into the sky. I want to see if they come back."
"I do not see anything," Litra said.
"You cannot see what makes your lights in the tavern work, either," Greg said.
"That is true," Nira said.
The red sunlight from Proxima was a poor charging source for their particular solar equipment, he regretfully accepted. His battery was only forty percent. He selected a test modulation and started at 20Mhz, aiming for the sky, perpendicular to level ground.
On earth, the D layer of the atmosphere is the first layer to get past. It will absorb a radio signal, not reflect it back. It was roughly 100 km high. Proxima b had a close and aggressive host star pumping x-rays into the atmosphere; he didn't know what to expect. The probing technique was straightforward: You started at a low frequency, one that would be absorbed by the D layer, and increased frequency until you received a reflection. That meant you'd made it past the D layer. You continued to increase the frequency until there was no reflection again. When that happened, you were reaching space.
There was no reflection as he passed through 30Mhz. On Earth, he should have started seeing one. That meant he hadn't even punched through the first layer, let alone the rest of them. He tried again, sweeping from the lowest to highest frequencies the radio would generate, at maximum power. He could feel the class C amplifier getting warm, weakening his battery at a depressing pace.
Nira and Litra were curious; he told them to back up. Their frames were blocking his light, and he didn't want them in the face of the radio signal. He couldn't get a signal reflection, and there wasn't enough battery to make any more attempts. He wished he could tinker with this in the cloud free zone, someplace that didn't require a day hike. At night, the D layer might go away like it did on Earth, but he was told only a fool would be here that time of day. His trip had been a failure. This radio was too weak with its tiny antennae to create a signal that would reach orbit on Proxima b, though on Earth it surely could.
There was nothing else to do. He'd need a larger antenna, a high gain antenna like the Rafael once had, or more transmitter power, or both. Was that an option? Could he build a primitive oscillator with their tech? They had light bulbs, how far away were they from a vacuum tube? Where would he find that kind of industrial base? It wasn't in the mining settlement, and not likely in Newtown where Mayana was either.
"Did you catch any of your electricity beads?" Nira asked.
"I did not," he said, standing while she remained crouched, staring at the sky.
"Look at the stars, Litra. I have not seen them in so long -- not since I left Mainlights." She said wistfully.
"They are pretty, Nira," Litra said.
"Those are Mother's eyes, Krek. Do you know them?"
"Toliman and Rigel, I do," he said, forgetting to speak in Centauran.
"Tolly what?" Nira said.
"I do know them. We call them Toliman and Rigel," he said.
"What odd names, hard to pronounce, like yours. Tolly and Rikel. Are they Sisters?" she asked.
Greg smiled, both at her genuine question of wonder, and her inability to pronounce the letter G. He tried to remember what the stars were named for.
"I believe they were named after a great beast," he said. They were the foot of the Centaur, he recalled, though growing up in the Northern hemisphere, he never saw them as a child.
"A fearsome beast," Nira said, showing her teeth, mocking claw strikes at Litra. Despite her intent to be playful, she appeared an actual fearsome beast to Greg, viewed through his different evolutionary eye. The Centaurans were sentient, but little imagination was needed to see the animals they evolved from.
"Could we go to the ruins of A'ekavi, Litra? They are so close, and we have never been there."
"They are. Greg and his adventure he tasked us with make me long for the simpler times when I was younger. We work too much, and spend too much time in the Tavern of late. Not this trip, Nira. We are too many cycles into this day, and we have not brought enough supplies," Litra said.
Litra mentioned Nira was young. He wondered what that meant, what a Centauran life cycle was like, if they matured like humans did, changed in the ways they saw the world?
"Oh look Litra, a niu nest. Maybe there is an egg in it?" Nira said.
"What's a niu?" Greg asked.
"It is the egg. We eat them, silly. I would not dare try climbing to get it. I do not want anyone seeing my tail."
"Telluki are not good climbers," Litra said, then looked at Greg.
The tree was Earth-like in appearance, not the Centipede trees or the Proxypalms. These were climbable iron woods, similar in hue as well. One pull-up to get from the first to the second branch seemed doable, even with his extra thirty pounds of Proxima weight. The rest looked like careful foot work. The idea of falling and breaking a bone wasn't appealing, but he was game to try after all the rock climbing he'd done today.
"I could lift you up," Litra said.
"No, I think I can do it," Greg said, setting his sack down. He grunted with exertion, the pullup more difficult than wished. Was this a flying animal's egg, he wondered. He'd not seen birds. Maybe flying wasn't a thing on Proxima b. He picked up a brown egg the size of a cantaloupe. There was no way to manage it, and climb down at the same time.
"Will you catch it, Nira?"
"Yes! I am ready," she said, bouncing up and down.
He dropped the egg, and she gleefully caught it, holding it in both hands like a prize before placing it in her satchel.
"I will catch you, too," she said, holding her arms out again. He didn't doubt she'd try; she had strong shoulders. He declined the offer.
"OK," she said, disappointed.
"Boys are always good climbers," Litra said.
-*-
On the way back to town, Greg occupied his thoughts with how to build an RF amplifier on a world at the cusp of inventing the vacuum tube. He had a machine capable of generating the needed modulations, he just needed them amplified. When they were within the bounds of the mining settlement, Litra said, "If you get tired of staying at the tavern, you could stay with us; it is a flop house with another clan. You would at least have bedding."
"I have to go back to Newtown. I have work there. I need money for parts. Things I may not be able to get here."
"Things? Why always things?" Nira said petulantly, walking backwards in front of him. "Again? You need more things? I helped you with your things. Now what things you need?"
"Why are you helping me?" Greg asked innocently.
"You need my help," she said, matter of factly.
Greg walked to a light post along the path. Light bulbs were close to a vacuum tube. "Where are these made?" he asked.
"Those come here on the train."
"From Newtown?"
"No, farther than Newtown."
"From Mainlights?"
"What do you know of Mainlights?" Nira asked, defensively. She made a growling noise. There may have been words embedded, but nothing translated.
"I need to build something, and the people who could help me must be in Mainlights. Or, is there any chance of going back where you found me, to where my airship crashed?"
"Why would you want to go there, you said your ship was destroyed?" Litra said.
"Kyapu are fierce in that area," Nira said.
"There is something I need in my ship, a bigger radio box and water dish," he said, using Litra's metaphor for the parabolic dish.
"And if you had that, you would not go to Mainlights, you would stay here?" Nira asked.
"Well, for a while, yes," Greg said.
"I do not fear the mountain. If we go at the right time there will be no kyapu."
Greg stopped walking. "I want your help but I have nothing to offer you. Let me go to Newtown and work for a while to repay you, then, if you are still willing to help me, we will go."
"Boys may be just as smart as girls, but who will protect you? It can be trouble in the city if you are not in a clan. You do not think I have potential, you think you can find better offers from other -"
Litra interrupted her, "He did not say that, Nira."
"I will help you get your bigger box. You will see I have potential to be a clan leader, and then you will want to clan with us, and honor me. I do not want you joining any clans in the city. you must stay here," she said, folding her arms. "Or we will not help you."
Litra said nothing during the outburst from Nira. There was no point in Greg arguing. At some point, anything either of them said was true by definition, given his complete ignorance of the planet.
"OK, Nira. I'll stay," Greg said.
-*-
Despite Litra's offer to stay with her and Nira, Greg slept in the Tavern. When he woke, he ordered a drink and asked the bartender the first question on his mind.
